He shut the door behind us and said between coughs, “What do we do?”

  I stumbled over to the window, smashed out the glass, and tossed the gun onto the roof of the porch below. I cut my hands as I slipped through and onto the tiles, and then stumbled and fell to the ground. My ribs screamed in pain and I saw red.

  The druggie landed beside me, swearing madly. Unbelievably, he bent down and helped me to my feet. “Dude, I like, so totally owe you, man! Y-you saved my life! Damn!” He looked around, fear and awe filling his face as the police cars and fire trucks descended onto the place. “Come on,” he urged.

  I was too exhausted and hurting to argue.

  ***

  I followed the druggie as he led me away from the house through the backyards of several neighbors—most of whom were either not at home or had turned out in their front yards to watch.

  I had to give it to the man: as stoned-out and paranoid as he was, he knew how to evade capture.

  Not that the cops were looking for us. Those at the house were too busy either directing traffic or helping the fire fighters set up to take on the blaze.

  Finally, after five lawns, I called a halt. “Stop. No more.”

  “No, no man. We gotta go. Gotta get scarce, y’know? Federales!” He pointed up. “Eyes in the sky. Satellites, right?”

  “You go. I’ll only slow you down.”

  He shook his head. “No way. You saved my life. I owe you.”

  Terrific. Just what I needed.

  “I mean,” he continued, running his hand through the thinning brown curls atop his head, “like, nobody’s ever done that for me before. It’s always been like, ‘Get out of here, Hector,’ and ‘Get lost, Hector. Nobody wants you around,’ or, ‘I’m leaving you, Hector. Guess I just don’t love you no more.’” His voice got real quiet, and he picked at his fingers. “But nobody’s ever done said, like, ‘Come on, Hector. I gots to save your life.’ I mean, you’re like my Jesus, y’know?”

  Oh Lord.

  I held up my hand, “Hang on there. I ain’t nobody’s Jesus, okay?” God, my ribs were killing me! “I didn’t do for you nothing you wouldn’t have done for me, right?”

  He shrugged. “Guess not.”

  “So in a way, it’s like you’ve already done it. You’ve already helped me, just by being another decent human being, right?”

  Hector shook his head. “No. No I haven’t. I’ve been a pretty lousy human being. I’m like, so totally an addict. Can’t even see straight half the time. I-in fact, you wanna know the truth of it?” He started shaking his head, “I probably wouldn’t have done it. Helped you, like how you helped me. I just… I wouldn’t. That’s Hector. That’s me.”

  He stared at the street a moment. “Maybe you shouldn’t have saved me at all. Y’know? I ain’t worth it.”

  I felt my legs give way, and I collapsed to my knees. Hector dropped down beside me, holding me upright by my shoulders. “You’re like, hurt, aren’t you? You wanna doctor? Or a hospital or something? They ask a lot of questions, but y’know if—ah—if that’s what you need…”

  “I need to find my girlfriend.” I panted. “Her name is Mel. Dark hair. She was back at the house, helping people get out.” I winced as a fresh stab of pain coursed through me. “Black. ‘67 Malibu.”

  “Is that, like, a car?”

  I fell to the ground and rolled onto my back. Closing my eyes against the pain, I nodded. “Find her.”

  A moment later, I heard him rise and hurry away. I didn’t know if he went to find her or not. Entirely possible he thought it best to just beat it outta there and leave me to die. On the other hand, he was filled with so much self-hate he might try to redeem himself. Who could live hating himself that way?

  I lay there a while, just breathing, praying the pain would pass. Once in a while, I’d cough a bit, my lungs trying to clear the smoke. But each time it hurt so bad I felt like my ribs were being pulverized by a jackhammer.

  Mel had been so right. I’d had no business trying to step inside that ring.

  Before long, I heard feet running in my direction. I had no idea who it was. It could’ve been EMT’s or the cops for that matter. There was nothing I could do about it at this point but wait it out.

  “He was asking for you,” Hector’s voice said.

  I opened my eyes.

  Mel swore when she saw me. “Ger, what were you thinking?”

  “He saved my life.”

  She whirled on him. “And if you hadn’t been trying to shoot us both, none of this would have happened!”

  “Mel,” I whispered.

  “Aw Geez, Gerrold!” she exclaimed.

  “Think you can find that doc again?” I managed weakly.

  “Hector,” she commanded, “help me get him to the car.”

  ***

  I woke up in a room lit by a pair of double fluorescent tubes flickering in the ceiling. I was lying on a bed, with fresh bandages around my midsection and an IV line coming out of my arm. I tried to sit up, but my head felt like it was a cannon ball balanced precariously atop a thimble and held there by kite string.

  A groan escaped my lips. I put my other hand over my head and worked my tongue over my teeth. The whole inside of my mouth felt like I’d been eating sand.

  “So,” a voice said, “we meet again.”

  My head lolled to one side, and I found myself looking at a man in hospital scrubs with a face mask disguising his features. I didn’t know him at all. And I was fairly certain we’d never met before.

  He pulled the mask down and held out his hand. “I am Dr. Carter. And you are my unnamed patient.” His voice sounded Slavic, and I doubted his real name was Carter.

  I took his hand. “We’ve met?” I managed.

  “Your daughter brought you in here not so long ago. I see you have not followed my instructions. This tells me you are a bad patient.” He wagged a finger and grinned. “But not to worry. I rarely see good people in here.”

  With that, he lifted the bandages over my ribs, inspecting the damage. “Nope. Usually, I just patch them up and send them on their way. No questions asked or even wanted so long as your paper’s green.” He put the bandages back down. “But rarely do I have return guests, and so quickly. And with such a change in fortune. If memory serves, last time I fixed you up, your daughter paid for it with her car and her laptop. Or maybe it was your car. And her laptop.

  “But today she brings you back. And then she turns around and not only pays for you in full, but even tries to buy her computer back. Which I did sell to her, by the way. I have more use for money than I do for bartered things. I might have sold it at a pawnshop or online, but it wouldn’t have been enough to pay what she already owed me for you.”

  He came around close enough for me to catch his wrist. All levity fled his eyes when I grabbed him. “How long have I been here?” I demanded.

  With a grimace, he extricated his wrist from my fingers. “Since this morning. She brought you here late last night and stayed with you in the parking lot until I opened.”

  “And now?”

  His expression told me he didn’t understand.

  “What time is it now?”

  “Five o’clock. Closing time, I might add.”

  That was fine by me. I had no intention of staying any longer than this. I reached for the IV, but he clucked his tongue and gently pushed my hand away.

  “No, no. Let the medicine do its work.”

  “I feel fine,” I retorted. It was a lie, and one that seemed to amuse him.

  “You feel like you’ve been hit by a truck,” he corrected. “You just don’t know it. If you take that line out of your arm, you will know it, and then you will be right back on my table. And I, of course, will charge you again. By all means: be my guest.”

  I let out a breath and relaxed my arm. He smirked. “So here’s the deal. You have three broken ribs. They were just cracked before. Not anymore. Now you’ve gone and done some real damage. You will need painkillers, and you must avoid strenuous activity. If you move too much, you risk permanent injury. Possibly even death.”

  From a set of broken ribs? I didn’t quite believe him.

  “Your ribs should heal, if left alone, in three to six weeks. The internal bruising to your organs?” He moved his head uncertainly from side to side. “Should be okay. But,” and now he stuck his finger in my face, “you must not reinjure them. Internal bleeding. Permanent damage. Hmm? You come back a third time, I may not be able to help you. Hospital! That is what you will need. And then? Perhaps you will not be so unnamed then.” He pulled back and walked around to the other side of my bed to check the IV. “I say this to warn you. To impress upon you the importance of following my advice.”

  “All right, all right!” I groaned. “I get it. No rough housing.”

  He tapped the vial feeding medicine into the line, and then put his hand on my arm, smiling graciously. “I am relieved to hear it. Another five minutes, this will be done.”

  With that, he turned to leave. “I will send your daughter and her boyfriend in to see you now.”

  I stared, momentarily stunned. Boyfriend?!

  Chapter 20

  He opened the door and leaned out, motioning with his hand. A moment later, Mel rushed into the room, followed shortly thereafter by Hector.

  Oh, I thought.

  Mel leaned over and embraced me, then held my cheeks in her hands and kissed me long and deep. I could see Dr. Carter furrowing his brow. I broke contact long enough to tell him, “Just for the record, I’m the boyfriend.”

  He rolled his eyes and shut the door.

  I put my hand on Mel’s head and ran my fingers through her hair. “Hey.”

  “What did Randall say?”

  I gave her a confused look.

  “Carter. Randall Carter.”

  “Sorry. How is it you’re on a first name basis?”

  “It’s ‘cause he’s not a real doctor, y’know?” Hector mumbled. “Dude got his license suspended or somethin’.”

  “Shut up, Hector,” Mel said.

  I frowned. “He’s not a doctor?”

  “He was a doctor,” she corrected. “Lost his medical license due to a nasty habit of writing prescriptions for people who didn’t really need pain meds. Now he kinda operates a ‘no questions asked’ clinic. Under the table, of course.”

  “I see,” still amazed at how she learned all this so quickly. “How’s he get medication?” I glanced up at the IV bag.

  She raised her eyebrows. “I think he manufactures his own. Or buys it from other dealers.”

  I reached over and pulled the needle out of my arm.

  “Gerrold, no,” she protested. “It’s fine.”

  “The hell it is,” I growled. “God only knows what poison he’s been putting inside me.”

  “You need pain killers and an anti-inflammatory. That stuff’s pretty heavy duty.”

  “That stuff?” I sneered. “You don’t know what this is.”

  Hector gestured at the needle. “Hey, y’know, if you’re not gonna need that?”

  I stared at him. “Seriously?”

  Disappointment washed over his face. “N-no. That’s okay. J-just a joke.” He folded his arms, and when he did, I noticed his hands trembling.

  “You feeling okay?”

  He gave me a nervous grin, unfolding and refolding his arms. “Sure.”

  I caught Mel’s eye. She gave me a quick shake of her head.

  “When’s the last time you ate something?” I asked him.

  He knit his brow. “D-don’t… don’t know.”

  “Is there anything nearby?” I asked Mel.

  She slid off me and pulled a pair of twenties out of her jacket pocket. “There’s a pizza shop about a block from here. Why don’t you get us a couple of pies?”

  He took the money from her, licking his lips. “What d’you want on it?”

  She shrugged. “Whatever.”

  After a moment, he crumpled the bills and shoved them in the front of his pants. “Okay. Sure. I’ll be right back.”

  “Thanks, Hector.”

  When he finally left the room I sat up, gripping the edge of the bed so the room would stop spinning. “What is he still doing with us?”

  She put her hands on her hips and shook her head. “You’ve made a friend.”

  “Really? An even bigger mystery.”

  She turned around and sighed. “It’s worse than you know. Remember that whole bit about covering our tracks so the cops wouldn’t know our path?”

  “Vaguely.” Everything seemed a little vague just then.

  “Well, that’s pretty much shot to hell. You, my love, are a hero.”

  “A hero?”

  “That’s right. An angel of mercy who dashed into a burning building and saved a dozen lives.” She took a step toward me. “The press are having a field day. They want information about who you are, and are offering you a cash reward if you’ll only come forward.”

  “You’re kidding.” I’d begun to feel sick again, and I doubted it was from the drugs.

  “I wish I was. It gets better. They’re interviewing witnesses and putting together a composite sketch.”

  I sagged onto the bed. “So we’re blown.”

  “We will be soon. All those fighters and spectators—they’re gonna put two and two together. And the cops will add it up, too. The pictures from the gas station you torched. The fire today—it ain’t gonna be long before they start asking just how this kitchen fire got started, and once they know a known arsonist was on the scene rescuing people inside…” She sat down on the edge of the bed. I put my arm around her and let her rest her head on my shoulder. “What are we gonna do?”

  “Instinct says we ought to stay under the radar.”

  She snorted.

  “I know. We haven’t had much luck in that regard lately.” I scratched my cheek, feeling the rough stubble of a beard that tried to grow through one of the few patches on my face that wasn’t permanently scarred. “Maybe we can use the press.”

  “That didn’t work out so hot last time you tried it,” she reminded me. She was right, of course. Last time I’d tried to use the press, I’d made contact with a reporter named Mark Durand at KTPY News in Ontica. He’d turned around and started working with the cops to bring me in, and the consequence was a crashed news helicopter, a dead cameraman, and a reporter about to have a nervous breakdown whenever he heard my voice.

  For some reason, I seemed to have that effect on people.

  “Well, we won’t be dealing with Durand now. And I’m not trying to force them into turning over my kids this time, either.”

  She nuzzled me and said nothing.

  “Well, don’t worry. We’ll think of something. At least you got rid of Hector.”

  She smiled mirthlessly. “Don’t be too sure. That guy’s like a bad penny.”

  ***

  She was right about Hector. I truly thought he’d take the money and run. Find himself something to ease his shakes and disappear into his sweet oblivion.

  Instead, he returned a half hour later with a pair of pizzas, a two liter bottle of cola, and change, of all things.

  “You guys like wings?” he said when we let him through the door, “‘Cause they got some killer sauces over there.”

  We’d moved to the lobby of the facility, which actually looked like it was an empty office building to which Carson had somehow gained access. It had no names on the doors of the various offices, and the glass in the windows remained unwashed and streaked with grime. Flexible conduit dangled from spaces in the ceiling grid where tiles should have been, some of them with wires exposed.

  I didn’t want to ask if the toilets or sinks in the restrooms worked. Frankly, I didn’t want to go in and find out they hadn’t in some time. I could only imagine what kind of condition they’d be in.

  We sat cross-legged against the wall and started enjoying our repast. Hector had even thought to bring along cups, which was good, because I had no intention of sharing a bottle with him.

  My stomach threatened to return the pizza to the box when I ate it, but I took my time and muscled through the gag reflex. The last time I’d had anything to eat was that General Tso’s the night before. Truth be told, my diet sucked of late. I’d eaten better in prison, as bad as the food was. Of course, we weren’t exactly in a position to spend time at the local Farmer’s Market buying fresh produce like I’d done so many times with my late wife.

  I didn’t want to contemplate what the cola was doing to my insides. I didn’t have the allergies to pasteurized milk and to processed foods my son had—the very thing that led me to using raw milk, which sorta led to the whole mad terrorist/arsonist/escaped convict that I’d become. Sometimes, it amazes me how my life has turned out. It wasn’t anything I could’ve ever predicted.

  On the other hand, neither was Mel.

  When we’d had enough, Hector raised the most relevant issue right off the bat. “So. What do you wanna do, now?”

  I cleared my throat, trying to frame an answer when Mel spoke up.

  “We’re going after some bad guys. The kind that hurt little kids. There’s evidence on a hard drive, and an ex-cop who retired down here is sitting on it. We’re gonna go and get that hard drive from him, and then we’re going to expose these people for who and what they are.”

  He stared at her a moment, then his gaze shifted to me. “Whoa,” he finally said, “you guys are like, superheroes or something.”

  “Not really,” I replied. “We’re more like criminals. Vigilantes at best. Terrorists to others.”

  He swore and shifted in his seat. “Wow. Like frickin’ Batman.”

  I put my hand out. “No. Not like Batman.”

  “Totally like Batman. You kiddin’? Batman—they all think he’s a criminal. And he is, ‘cause he operates outside the law. B-but he like, does it because the law don’t work no more. And like, the bad guys’s like taken over and such. And sometimes they like, are the law, like that Two-Face—like Harvey Dent. And so Batman, he like comes in and does justice, man. But he’s gotta like go outside society, see? And the cops have like, got to chase him, but they don’t really wanna catch him, ‘cause they know they needs him.”